


Obligatory Training Montage

by L_Moonshade



Series: Altered Realities [9]
Category: Highlander: The Series, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-15
Updated: 2014-07-26
Packaged: 2018-01-24 12:46:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 9,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1605707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/L_Moonshade/pseuds/L_Moonshade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint Barton comes by his information in many ways—directly, indirectly, and sometimes just plain sneakily. But when two new recruits come through the doors, for once it may not give him an advantage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was a young group that followed Jacobs, though none of them looked quite as young as me. I took aim and fired, hitting the last guy in line in the middle of the back of his head. He startled, then turned to pick up the dart.

"What the…?"

Jacobs glanced over. "Nerf dart? That's just Barton. He likes to ambush the newbies."

The guy looked up and I thought he seemed familiar but couldn't place him. "If you want this back, Agent Barton, you're going to have to come and get it." With that he turned and continued on his way, tucking the dart into his pocket.

I grinned. He was going to be fun to play with.

I got called out on an op after that so it was a few days before I could get my dart back. I didn't bother trying until I knew he was in his quarters but I did take my usual route through the air ducts, hoping to get the drop on him. I thought I was silent, but before I could get into the room I got hit with my own dart.

"Thanks," I said, sliding the ceiling tile back into place.

"Anytime."

From there I went (grinning; he was going to be a lot of fun) to talk to Coulson. He'd just been assigned as a full-time handler so he'd gotten an office even if it was barely big enough for a filing cabinet, a desk, a place to stand in front of said desk, a chair, and a couch that I was pretty certain he slept on more often than not. When I dropped onto the couch he sighed but didn't look up.

"Please don't land on the sofa, Barton, you'll ruin the springs and they're bad enough as it is. Can I help you?"

"Sorry, Sir. I just got hit with my own dart."

"How did that happen?

I stretched out. "I hit one of the newbies before the op, he kept it and told me I'd have to come get it myself. Bastard was waiting for me, too. When I got the tile moved aside, he shot me. Would've been a good hit."

Coulson looked up at that. "Royce?"

I shrugged. "I don't know his name. Tall, slim, nose like the prow of a ship, accent. He looked familiar, but I can't quite place where I would have seen him before."

"Paris."

I frowned, trying to remember, then I realized who Coulson was talking about. "Oh, yeah, I remember now. Can't believe I didn't recognize him. I got a good look at him on the bridge."

"He's very good at making you think he is who he wants you to think he is. The facial hair helps, too."

Royce had grown a goatee and moustache since I'd seen him last and it made him look older than he'd seemed in Paris, even if not by much. "I can't believe you recruited him."

He huffed. "We kept running into each other, always when I was on an op. In fact Paris was the… fourth, I think. The Director and I figured it would be better to recruit him than to have him getting in the way. Don't worry, he's good. He walked into the aftermath of a shoot-out and didn't bat an eye."

"That is impressive." I studied Coulson for a moment. There was something different, a tension I hadn't noticed before. "Are you okay, Sir? What happened in Paris?"

"It's nothing, Barton."

Did he really expect me to believe that? "If you don't want to talk to me about it, I understand. But please don't lie."

He looked startled, then gave me a wry smile. "You're right, I apologize. It is very much not nothing, but there are only a handful of people who know. For the moment, at least, it should stay that way."

"Understood. You know I'm here for you if you need me. Right?"

His smile became a bit more genuine. "I do, and I appreciate it. Thank you. Now, don't you have some junior agents to terrorize? There's an entire second group you haven't ambushed yet."

"I'll wait until they're off the range. But a little recon wouldn't go amiss." I jumped up and hauled myself back into the ducts, put the vent cover back, and headed for the range. If even one person in the second group was as unique as Royce, it would be an interesting training session.


	2. Chapter 2

When I got to the range, the group leader was talking about the op I'd just been on, one that hadn't gone very well. I'd met the objective, but two kids had died in the process, something that had been entirely preventable.

"…And they say that Barton knew, just didn't care," Sandoval said.

"Who says?" a woman asked. She reminded me of someone—a feeling that only got stronger the more I watched her—but I couldn't place it.

Sandoval turned to her with a frown. "What was that, Lang?"

"Your words were, and I quote, 'they say.' I'm wondering who, exactly, that is."

"What does it matter?"

She sighed. "It matters because anyone could say anything they want. I mean, 'they' could say that you're a self-aggrandizing prick who talks yourself up and others down in order to compensate for the size of your, well," her eyes shot down to his crotch and she gave a wicked smile, "prick."

He didn't like that. "You bitch. You want to know who says? Everyone. Everyone knows that Barton's a loose cannon who's going to go rogue any time, now."

Lang shrugged. "Everyone also knows that Agent Coulson is an emotionless robot who doesn't care about anything or anyone. Since I've seen evidence to the contrary, I'll ignore what everyone says and make my own judgment. Which is what the rest of you should do."

I felt a wave of gratitude, even as I was concerned that she was going to get in trouble since Sandoval wasn't known for being very forgiving. He was all too willing to let people talk long enough to hang themselves, and Lang had definitely given herself enough rope.

Once they were done I went back to Coulson's office, using the door this time since it wasn't personal. I could see that he was surprised, but he handled it the same way he handled everything. In other words, as if there was nothing unusual going on.

"Can I help you, Agent Barton?"

"Yeah. I'm pretty sure Agent Sandoval is going to be making a complaint about Junior Agent Lang. I'd like to make a statement in her defense."

"Okay. Tell me what happened."

I did. When I was done Coulson started to say something, but I jumped in before he could. "I know she could have… She maybe didn't do it in the right way, but she did do the right thing."

He actually looked impressed. "I agree, I'm glad you see that. I'll write out what you told me, but I won't do anything with it until and unless there's an official complaint. If there is, I'll have you sign and append it to the complaint."

I nodded. "Okay. Thanks, Coulson."

He gave me a little smile. "Thank you for coming to me. That shows a lot of grace and maturity. There's been a lot of change in you—good change—and I'm glad to see you living up to your potential."

It still surprised me, how much faith he had in me. It had been so long—if ever—that anyone had, it always caught me by surprise. I pushed it aside, though; now that the business portion of the meeting was over there was something else I wanted to address. "Can I ask you something?"

He leaned back in his chair. "Always."

"Why would she stick up for me? We've never met, she doesn't know anything about me…"

"I have some ideas, but if you want to know you'll have to ask her."

"Do you think she'd mind?"

He gave me his mildly annoyed look. "Go talk to her and get out of my hair, Barton."

I grinned. "Yes, Sir."

After dinner, I made my way to her quarters. I briefly considered going to her door, but decided it would be more fun to try and catch her unawares.

I slid the tile aside, moving even more slowly and quietly than I had at Royce's, and dropped into her quarters. But before I could stand, I was hit with a Nerf dart.

"You've been talking to Royce, haven't you? What do I have to do to get the drop on you people?"

She laughed, an easy sound. "I have, and I'm not going to up and give you all my secrets."

It was my first good look at her up close and there was little I hadn't already seen; she was small and leanly muscled with dark skin and black hair falling to the middle of her back in tiny braids. What I hadn't expected was her green eyes, but I had no doubt that was their natural color. She seemed to be the type who knew who she was and was completely comfortable with it.

"Scotch?" she asked, standing. "I don't have any glasses, but I'm pretty sure I also don't have any cooties."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Sure," I said, dropping into the single chair. I watched her go to the dresser, trying to figure out again who she reminded me of. "Why?"

I hadn't been planning on asking quite so quickly or quite so bluntly, but now that it was out I wasn't about to take it back. She dug out the Scotch and took a swig before handing me the bottle.

"Because he's an ass and any chance to insult him is welcome. Because even though we've never met, I like you more than I like him. But mostly…" she paused and pulled out a cigar and lit it, choosing her words. "Anything that promotes distrust has no business here," she said after a moment. "It's going to get someone killed, and he really should know better."

"Oh, I'm sure he does. He just doesn't like me.

"No excuse. What'd you do, show him up?"

I sighed and took another long drink. "When I was young, my brother and I literally ran away and joined the circus. I was there until Coulson came and recruited me."

"And Sandoval equates lack of formal education with stupidity?"

"Yeah. Seems that way."

She snorted. "Idiot."

"Sometimes I think he's right."

"Hawkeye. Was that your name in the circus?"

"Yeah."

She nodded as if that was no more than she were expecting. "Royce and I saw you, once. We were in the States and you guys were just rolling into town. We watched the demo you put on to drum up business and decided we had to go, because the things you did… You figure angles and distance and trajectory, and it was a windy day so you had to worry about that, too, and you did all of those calculations in a split second. I'm willing to bet that Sandoval can't do that with a calculator, much less in his head so, no, it's not the same. Just because you didn't have the opportunity doesn't mean you couldn't learn if you did."

It was one thing to hear something like that from Coulson, who had a stake in things. But Lang didn't and that made it seem all the more real. "Thanks."

She shrugged and took the bottle back. "Just calling it how I see it."

"So, Sandoval is probably going to file a formal complaint on you."

"Yeah, I got that impression. He seems like the type who can dish it out, but won't take it."

"I stopped by Coulson's office, told him what happened and that you were just shutting down a bully. If there is a formal complaint, he'll file my defense for you."

She looked touched. "Thanks, Barton."

"Least I can do." I sighed and leaned over. "It was my mark's weekend with the kids. Mikkelson knew, he knew, and he didn't tell me. I shot the guy while he was driving, and the kids were killed in the accident."

I waited for her to tell me it wasn't my fault, like just about everyone else who knew. It wouldn't help, though. It wasn't my fault—and I knew it—but that didn't make me any less guilty.

She didn't, though. Instead, she handed me the Scotch and went to the dresser for another bottle. "Yeah. There's not enough booze in the world."

We talked and drank, and even though I got buzzed it never seemed to affect her. At one point she got up to go to the bathroom and stretched, the movement seen through less-than-clear vision triggering recognition.

"Fluffy."

She turned to look at me, one eyebrow arched, amusement clear in her voice. "I'm sorry?"

"You remind me of Fluffy."

"And Fluffy is…"

"The black jaguar we had at the circus. It's just… I've been trying to figure out who you remind me of. You remind me of a cat."

"Hmm," she said, a smug smile on her face as she turned and hit the head.

That's when the game started; I'd try to shoot her or Royce, they'd try to shoot me, we'd keep each other's ammunition. There were complaints when we got a bit too rowdy with it, and Coulson passed those complaints along. But always with a long-suffering tone that couldn't quite hide the affection.


	3. Chapter 3

It was Royce who figured out my secret, the one Coulson had done so much to hide. It started after a sign had shown up in the ducts above Royce's quarters; I tried to puzzle it out but only managed a couple of words before giving up and dropping into the room. He was alone which didn't surprise me—Lang was in the gym training with her group and he never seemed to have anyone else in his quarters. He was at his desk working on coursework; he didn't look up but heaved a sigh.

"You didn't knock, Barton."

Was that what the sign had said? Fuck. "Can't catch you off-guard if I do that, can I?"

He rolled his eyes, but I thought I saw the hint of a smile on his face. "No, I suppose not. So is there a purpose to this visit, or are you just bored?"

"Of course there's a purpose. I need someone to talk to 'cause I'm bored."

He threw a piece of wadded up paper at me, but didn't kick me out and it was a good afternoon. And if he didn't believe my reason for not knocking, he didn't call me on it.

Because of that, I forgot all about it. Time passed, I had a couple of missions with Coulson and a few others, of whom I only got along with Coulson. I sniped Royce and Lang, they sniped me back, everyone else seemed happy that I'd mostly stopped ambushing anyone but the two of them. I still eavesdropped on anyone and everyone, but I wasn't going to be giving that up any time soon. Too much of what I learned came in handy.

The whole time I never realized that, while I was watching and learning about Royce, he was doing the same with me. I knew there was more to him than met the eye of course—he was Immortal, after all—but he did such a good job of acting young and inexperienced that it was easy to forget. And that's why I was caught totally off-guard when he called me out. I'd walked into the break room looking for something to do while I waited for Coulson to find me an op, and found Royce alone with some movie or other on the TV.

"Hey. What're we watching?"

"No idea, I don't know what's on," he said, tossing the TV Guide at me. "Why don't you find something?"

I froze. He couldn't know, could he? He was good, but we'd never worked an op together and that was the only time my illiteracy was at all obvious. Then he turned to look at me with a smirk and I sighed and tossed the TV Guide back onto his lap.

"I hate you."

"It's a large club."

I sat down, put my feet up on the coffee table. "How'd you know?"

"I started to suspect when you didn't knock. You were quick with an excuse, but if you were really trying to catch me off guard, you would've had the Nerf set with you. After that, I started keeping an eye out. You're good—though I'm willing to bet you have help—but I knew what I was looking for."

"What are you going to do?"

"Tell you that, believe it or not, I have some extra time. I'd be more than happy to teach you, if you'd like to learn."

I… what? "Why?"

"Because life is much, much easier when you can read."

"Yeah, I know that. So, why?"

I didn't realize at the time that I was really asking what was in it for him, but he got it. "Because it's what we do for friends."

"We're friends?"

"I'd like to think so. Are you kidding? Aside from Lang and Coulson, you're the only one around here who seems to have a sense of humor."

I grinned. "Most people don't think he does."

"Most people don't properly appreciate a desert-dry sense of humor."

"True." I took a moment to think about Royce's offer, and he let me. It was the first time someone had offered to do something like that without expecting something in return, or ridiculing me for not knowing something. And to be honest, keeping it quiet was getting tedious. "Yeah. Yeah, I think I'd like that."

He gave me a warm smile. "Great. Start tomorrow night over dinner? We can order in, eat at my quarters."

"Sure."

It was good learning from Royce. He had infinite patience, he never talked down to me, and it was nice to get to know him a bit better. He wasn't the first person to try teaching me, but he was the first one I felt I could learn from, the first one I enjoyed learning from.

And when I got good enough to read the sign he'd never taken down, I had to laugh. "No soliciting, no Jehovah's Witnesses, no trespassing. Violators will be shot, survivors will be shot again. If you're a friend, please knock." Then, handwritten underneath, "So you'd better knock, Barton."

What could I do? I started knocking. Just, not all the time.


	4. Chapter 4

I only caught Royce off-guard once. It was in his quarters and I'd been about to gloat, until I saw how tense he looked. Hell, he looked a bit tipsy, and that was a shock. I'd never seen him drink enough alcohol, before.

"You okay?"

Royce heaved a sigh. "SERE didn't go well."

Well, duh; it was an exercise in surviving on your own, being captured, and withstanding interrogation. "It's not supposed to."

He shook his head. "That's not… Jacobs used Kate—Lang—against me, made me watch her session. I was doing great until then, I mean, I can handle pain. Hell, torture's killed me more than once. But when I saw them hurting her… I folded like a house of cards."

"I didn't realize you were so close," I said, turning down the bottle he offered me. I wasn't stupid enough to try what Coulson called "the Doctor's Best," not after the first time. "Didn't you just get here?"

"We're engaged. We came in with the understanding that we'd be going into the field together, but the director wanted us to go through training separately."

"Makes sense, I guess. Who all knows?"

"Director Delaware of course, and Coulson. Now you."

It was flattering that I was on such a short list, but it made me wonder how Jacobs knew to use Lang against Royce like that. Not that it mattered. "Well, if you're engaged of course you don't like to see her hurt. What are you going to do? Can you get past it now that you know it's a weakness?"

He shrugged and downed a long drink. "No idea. I'd like to think so, but I'd hate to find out the hard way that I can't."

I stretched out on his bed. "Have you talked to Lang about it?"

"Not until I have a better handle on what it means. I don't want her to feel guilty for being one of my few weaknesses."

I snorted. "Do you really think she doesn't already know?" I paused, then made the only suggestion I could. "You should talk to Coulson. He's good at working stuff like this out."

He froze, so briefly I almost didn't see it. "Yeah. He is."

I couldn't believe it. "Holy shit, you don't want him to know you're just as human as the rest of us. Shouldn't you be older and wiser than to fuck with all that macho bullshit?"

He huffed. "Wanting to impress someone you're crushing on isn't a modern development." Then, realizing what he'd given away, he winced. "It's been too long. Apparently I've forgotten what it's like to be drunk."

"Well, you don't have to worry about me. I grew up in the circus, remember? So what does your fiancée think about it?"

He gave a wry smile. "We apparently have very much the same taste in men. And a great deal of talking to do." He made a show of not being concerned, but I could see him watching me out of the corner of his eye.

"Still not shocked. I don't think there's too much left out there that could get me."

"A woman who lived her entire life as a man?"

I laughed. "Our bearded lady was a drag queen who didn't shave."

He chuckled. "Most of them probably were."

"Yeah." We fell silent for a moment. "Seriously, you should go to Coulson. He may not be impressed by the weakness—though, as far as weaknesses go I've heard worse—but he will be that you trust him enough to talk to him about it."

He sighed. "I'll think about it," he promised.


	5. Chapter 5

Coulson looked surprised when Royce stepped into the office and stalked over to the chair, damn near throwing himself into it. He landed in a boneless sprawl and I almost couldn't tell something was bothering him.

"Can I help you, Junior Agent Royce?"

"I'm not here to talk to Agent Coulson."

Coulson sat back in his chair. "Then what's wrong, Adam?"

"SERE went about as badly as it could."

Coulson nodded. "I saw that. I have to admit to being surprised."

"You and me both. It was fine, until Jacobs played dirty, made me watch what they did to Kate."

Coulson sighed. "The director told him to, on my suggestion. Let me explain," he said when Royce's face darkened. "If you're going to be in the field together, it's a concern."

Royce calmed and scrubbed a hand over his face. "Yeah, you're right. What was I thinking, joining SHIELD?"

"You tell me."

Royce gave a wry smile. "I was thinking there's no way Kate won't end up here sooner or later, and I can't watch her back if I'm sitting at home."

"Are you sure you have to?"

"For myself, at the very least. But this… this may be a deal-breaker."

"Can I assume that since you're here, you want to know what I think?"

"Of course you can. If you're lucky, you'll even be right."

It sounded like something I'd say and it got the same response my smart-ass remarks did; a dry, unimpressed look. Royce gave a smirk, before becoming serious again. "Please."

"Talk to Kate. I'm honestly surprised you haven't before now."

"This is a dream come true for her. She always wanted to be on her school's team, but she was too afraid of being judged. Here, though, she doesn't have to worry about it. She really was born for this life, and I don't want to be the reason she has to give it up."

"You have no right to take that choice from, or make it for, her. Talk to her, work out a solution, take the SERE training over again if you have to. If you make it, fine. If not, try a different solution. I told the director it would be worth it to keep you two together partly based on how easily you communicate with each other. Don't make me a liar."

Royce hesitated. "I don't like the idea that she'll think less of me because…"

That snapped Coulson's patience. "She knows that sometimes showing a vulnerability takes more strength than hiding it. Now get out of my office and take that macho crap with you. And talk to your fiancée."

Royce grinned and son of a bitch, the sneaky bastard. He'd just found out what Coulson thought about it with Coulson none the wiser. "Yes, Sir," Royce said with a sloppy salute. He started to get up, then paused. "Any word on Pierce?" he asked, voice serious and sympathetic. I recognized the name; there was a rumor that an agent had gone rogue recently. I hadn't realized Coulson had known him, but if he did that could explain why he'd been in such rough shape after his last visit to Paris.

"No," Coulson sighed. "He's gone so far to ground that either he was prepared or had help."

"Do you really think he wasn't prepared?"

"I don't know anymore, Adam. I thought I knew him, but I'm finding out I never really did. Every time we look at something in an attempt to retrace his steps, it turns out to be anything but what I thought it was. And he's nowhere I'd expect him to be."

"I'm sorry. But there's one thing worse than your not being able to find him."

Coulson frowned. "What's that?"

"That you understand him so well you know just what he's thinking." With that, he was gone.

Coulson sat for a moment in silence then went back to his paperwork. "Come on down, Barton."

I shook my head and slid the vent aside to drop into his office. "How do you always know I'm there?"

He gave me that little smile. "Trade secret. What do you think?"

"He can't really think she's that fragile."

"It's not necessarily that he thinks she's fragile. But sometimes, even when we know the truth about a loved one, it's difficult to believe it." He paused and I wondered if he was thinking about Pierce.

"I also think he should have talked to her before now."

“It's easier for Royce to come to me, because he doesn't have any investment in what I think."

"You do know he talked to me first, right?"

His brow tightened, just enough for me to notice. "What? Why would he go to someone he's only just met?"

"Because he cares very much what you think. He didn't throw that comment out there because he was afraid of looking less than manly in front of Lang. He made it to find out how you felt."

Coulson shook his head. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"You can think that if you want." I almost told him that it sounded like Lang was just as invested, but I'd already freaked the guy out. I didn't need to add to it, I thought as I took the chair Royce had been in. "What are the chances of getting them assigned to the team?"

He leaned forward and went from Phil back to Agent Coulson. "It's a possibility. Why?"

"I like them. They trade barbs with me, they don't take anything seriously, and they don't hold my past against me. They trust me, at least a little, and they like to play as much as I do."

That got an unimpressed look, but I thought I saw one corner of his mouth quirk up. "So I've heard. I'll see what I can do. Always assuming they pass training, of course."

I snorted. "Do you really think that's going to be a problem? Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a reading assignment to finish for Royce." When Coulson blinked rapidly a couple of times, I grinned. "Didn't you know? He's helping me with my reading."

Coulson smiled. "Good, I'm glad. When you're ready for recommendations, let me know."

"Yes, Sir."


	6. Chapter 6

I was just leaving Lang's quarters after having dinner with her—she'd had a long day and Royce was still kind of keeping his distance—when there was a knock and she let Royce in. I stuck around since, if things went badly, she was going to need company.

"Hey. Finally ready to talk?"

Royce gave her a wry smile and took a seat on the bed. "We're going to have to work on that, aren't we?"

"We? I'm not the one who's being emotionally repressed."

"This time."

Lang gave a shrug. "Well, yeah, there is that." She sat with her back against a wall and put her feet into his lap. "What's going on, Babe?"

"I failed SERE."

She just looked at him for a moment. "I wasn't expecting that."

"Tell me about it. It wasn't a problem, until Jacobs showed me your session. I just… I couldn't… I couldn't stand seeing you like that, Kate."

"Oh, Royce."

She got up and went to the cabinet for her K-bar, then took it back to the bed and ran it across her arm. It took me a huge effort of will to keep my mouth shut, seeing all that blood, until I realized that there was relatively little. She grabbed a dirty towel and wiped her arm clean and holy fuck, there was nothing. No sign at all that she'd been cut, aside from a pale streak or two of red.

"I passed SERE with flying colors. I'm a big girl, Royce, I can handle a little pain. And by a little, I mean a lot."

He took the knife and set it aside then pulled her close, wrapped his arms around her, and leaned his head against her. "I know, Kitten, I know. But it's so hard to believe. I've only ever been with normal, fragile mortals and whenever I see you hurt…" He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I didn't want to be the reason you gave this up."

"Not your choice to make."

He huffed. "Yeah. That's what Phil said."

"He's a wise man. You should listen to him."

"I know. I just need to work on believing that you'll be fine."

"Any ideas on how?"

He looked up with a wicked grin. "I may have one or two."

Lang was looking down, so I couldn't see her expression, but it didn't seem she was opposed to whatever he was suggesting. Especially when she said, "You may not want to stick around, Barton."

"Night, Guys," I said, then took off. I was gonna need a lot of brain bleach.

But at least they were talking again.


	7. Chapter 7

I came to slowly, something that normally only happened when I was on pain meds. I lay there for a minute with my eyes closed to get my bearings and heard the all-too-familiar sounds of Medical, including someone turning a page in the chair next to me. I turned to look, expecting to see Coulson, but it was Lang. I was shocked to see her after what'd happened; she'd been my back-up but she'd taken off, leaving me vulnerable when I'd been spotted. It wasn't the first time someone had left me in the lurch, but it was one of the most painful.

"I know it won't ever make up for what I did, but I'm sorry," she said. "I can't tell you how sorry."

She paused, maybe waiting for me to say something, but I couldn't. I was too drugged-up and too angry and nothing good ever came of me opening my mouth when I was feeling like that.

After a moment she gave me a sad smile. "I'll let the nurses know you're awake," she said, then left.

Left. Just like my brother.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

I didn't see her again until I was released from medical a couple of days later, and even then I didn't talk to her. I'd gone straight to Coulson to beg for an op but she was just walking into his office; I hesitated only a moment before taking to the air ducts. I wanted to hear what she had to say, but I wasn't ready to confront her just yet.

When I got to the vent she was standing in front of his desk, head down. Coulson's mouth was tight, the corners turned down just a touch, as good as a deep frown for anyone else.

"What happened?"

"It doesn't matter."

His eyes widened, just a touch. "Doesn't it?"

She looked up to meet his eyes. "No. I fucked up and there's no excuse."

"I'm glad you know that."

If Coulson saw the hurt look that crossed her face he didn't comment, but it only pissed me off more. She was the one at fault, she was the one who'd taken off and left me on my own. She didn't have the right to feel hurt.

"Satisfy my curiosity, then," Coulson said after a moment.

Lang didn't look like she wanted to answer, but she did. "There was a fight, a group of boys attacking an eleven-year-old girl. She looked like Andie."

Coulson heaved a sigh and sat back in his chair. "Those feelings have no place in the field."

"They do, but for my partner. Not for someone I can't help."

"Do you think it was a decoy?"

"Yes, Sir, I do. I've stated as much in my report." It could have sounded snarky, but her voice was too quiet, too vulnerable. She was just letting him know that she was following procedure.

"Why do you think that?"

"When I got closer, I realized that Pierce had been there."

That name meant something to Coulson. He straightened and his face went blank, though there was a tightness to it I didn't usually see. He studied Lang for a moment, then looked down at the paperwork in front of him. "You are removed from suspension, however you have been written up and will have to repeat your training. A second write-up in the space of six months after your return to the field will see you dismissed. Any comments, complaints, arguments?"

I waited for the argument. She wanted SHIELD, it would kill her knowing she could lose it so easily.

"No, Sir."

Coulson's poker-face never slipped. He filled out the forms, signed, then turned them around so Lang could sign as well.

"You'll start training tomorrow. Dismissed."

She gave a curt nod and left. I didn't bother to pretend Coulson didn't know I was there and dropped into the room.

"For the record, if I know you're there she will, too."

That caught me off guard. "You mean she knew I was up there the whole time and didn't say anything?"

"Possibly to show she trusts you."

Yeah, great. Too bad I couldn't trust her. "Who's Andie?"

"Her daughter. They've been separated, Andie was left with her father, and Lang is worried that it won't end well. But there's nothing she can do."

I didn't bother to ask why, since I'd already gotten more information than I'd expected to. "Fuck."

"Yes, it's an ugly situation. I'm afraid I don't have anything for you, if that's why you're here."

I shrugged. "Figured it couldn't hurt to try." I almost left, but there was more I needed to know. "I expected her to argue about being that close to getting kicked out."

"She knows there's a price for what she did."

"She looked hurt when you said you were glad she knew."

Coulson sighed. "She was hurt that it was even a question in my mind. The fact that you were injured brought it home to her just how badly she screwed up. She made about the biggest mistake she could have, but it _was_ a mistake. She didn't just walk away."

"So you're saying what? That I should forgive her and trust her to watch my back?"

"Not at all. I'm saying that you may want to take that into consideration when you're deciding if you can. Is there anything else?"

I almost asked about Pierce, but Coulson was at the end of his rope and I didn't want to push. "No, Sir."

"Good. Then get out of my office."

It wasn't said with his normal affection, so I left without another word.

I didn't interact with Lang's training group this time around but I did watch, and I noticed two things. The first was that something had happened between her and Coulson. Where their conversations had been easy, with lots of little smiles and in jokes, they were now serious and as brief as possible. I wasn't sure on whose side the tension was—they both kept their faces carefully blank—but it wasn't good.

The other thing I saw was that Lang moved through much more quietly than she had before, following orders to the letter and never a toe out of line. It didn't help that Royce wasn't around—all I knew was that he'd been sent to check out an object of unknown origin found in an archeological dig—but that wasn't the only reason. I spent the whole time wondering what had changed, and missing them both like hell. They'd become a good friends and I missed having them to go to when no one else wanted to talk. But she'd abandoned me. Remembering what Coulson said helped, the idea that it had been a mistake and not her deliberately leaving me on my own was comforting. But while I knew it, it was taking me a long time to believe it. And even once I finally started, I still couldn't bring myself to reach out.

It was towards the end of her training when that changed. She was in the gym sparring with one of the guys in her group when Sandoval and Jacobs walked in. I always wondered why Jacobs hung out with Sandoval, but I guess a lot of people probably wondered why Royce and Lang hung out with me.

Had hung out with me.

"Hear she left Barton in the lurch?"

My stomach twisted. Sandoval was right of course, but he didn't need to gossip about it.

"Ran off to handle something that wasn't even part of the mission," he went on when Lang didn't say anything. "Wasn't any of her business either, way I hear it."

Lang and her sparring partner had finished and she headed for the showers without a word. Sandoval was looking for trouble, though, and he was determined to get it.

"So let me get this straight. You'll stick up for an asshole like Barton but not yourself?"

Lang turned and shrugged. "This time you're actually right."

It was there, just a flash, but it was the first time I'd seen her let her guard down. Not much, but enough that I could see the overwhelming guilt. Hearing it from Coulson had been one thing but seeing it? That was what I'd needed.

Sandoval laughed as she turned to go. "Well, there it is, straight from the horse's mouth. What'd I tell you, Mark? Girls just don't belong here, especially not that one. No wonder her boy toy's long gone…"

I couldn't listen to any more and dropped down in front of Sandoval to shut him up with a right hook. He staggered back, eyes wide, and reached up to touch the place where I'd split his lip.

"Barton? What the fuck?"

"Did Lang make a mistake? Yes, but she's not the only one who has. Or do I need to remind everyone of just why you're running orientation?" I hoped he wouldn't call my bluff because I didn't know details, but hanging around in the vents had paid off. I had enough information to know that his mistake had cost a life.

He paled and shut up, rushing back into the changing room. I turned, gave Lang a nod that she returned, then disappeared back into the vent. I needed to think, to figure out where to go from here, but there was really only one answer. So, after dinner, I went to her room and knocked.

On the door.

She gave me a tentative smile and let me in. "Hey, Barton. Thanks for earlier."

"Least I could do." I took the chair she offered while she settled onto the bed. "I never asked. What happened?"

She sighed. "I'm going to give you the full explanation, so bear with me. Almost ten years ago I… well, suffice it to say I'll never see my daughter again. I was hiding a genetic condition that, if my husband had known about he probably would have tried to kill me. Andie was just coming up on the age where we'd find out if she carried the gene or not, and she had no warning. So when I saw a girl Andie's age, who bore a slightly-more-than-passing resemblance, getting attacked by a group of boys, I rushed off half-cocked. I knew it wasn't her, but still."

"You can't protect your daughter, so you thought you'd protect someone else's." And honestly, seeing the pain that still lingered, I could understand that.

"Yeah. Then I realized who was behind it—and you'll have to go to Coulson for that information—and realized it was a decoy. I headed back to position, but the damage had been done."

"You remind me of my brother."

She winced. "That's not a good thing."

No, it wasn't, and I kind of felt bad about making the comparison. "I'll admit, that's why it took me so long to get over the fact that you'd just left. But that's not what I mean. I mean the whole, family first thing."

"Family is the most important thing I have. But part of it's not here. I didn't realize I hadn't completely moved on, and that's a damn stupid way of figuring it out…"

"Tell me about it."

She huffed laughter. "I've been talking to Psych, though, making myself realize that I have to take care of the family I do have. So, I promise. It won't happen again."

"Good." And if the implication that she considered me family made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside? Well, I wasn't going to tell anyone.

We stayed up late talking (no drinking; she was actually following all the rules since she couldn't afford to break any of them), but it was a good conversation. Finally, though, I got tired and needed to get to sleep.

"We're good," I told her as I left. "Not great, but we're good."

Her smile was actually real, without much hint of the sadness and guilt that had colored it the past few months. "We'll start working our way back up to great."

I grinned. "Sounds good."


	8. Chapter 8

I'd been about to try ambushing Royce for the first time since his return, when there was a knock on his door. He opened it to find Coulson in jeans and a polo shirt and I was surprised; it was the first time I'd ever seen Coulson in anything but a suit. He didn't look like he was doing too well, either.

"Phil?"

"Can I talk to you?"

"Of course. Something to drink?" Royce asked, stepping aside to let Coulson in.

"Actually, a drink would be great."

Royce poured two glasses of the Doctor's Best (and seriously? What kind of a name was that?). Coulson took a sip then set it aside, leaning over to look at the floor.

"Pierce called me today, trying to get me to go with him. When I refused… he seems to think I've betrayed him."

Royce knocked back his drink and refilled his glass. "From his point of view, you did. You're his brother, you're supposed to be on his side."

Coulson's brother? Fuck, no wonder he was having such a hard time with it. I felt a pang of sympathy; God knew I could identify. When I'd parted ways with mine, he beat me to a bloody pulp and left me for dead. Hell, if Coulson hadn't been there to recruit an archer, I probably wouldn't have survived.

There was a long moment of silence then Coulson looked up, a look of pain and sorrow on his face. "How do I convince myself that's not true?"

Royce shook his head. "I wish I had an easy answer for you, but there isn't one. You have to take a long, hard look at yourself and decide what you want from life. If it's truly the same thing he does, then go. But if it's not, you'll have to tell yourself why all of his arguments are shit. Probably more than once. And either way, you have to remember that you're not the same person. No matter what anyone says, you are not the same person."

"Genetically, we are."

Wait, what? That meant they were identical twins and how fucked up was that?

"There's more to who you are than DNA. If it were just that, Kate and I wouldn't have had such an easy time telling you apart."

"Was it really that easy?"

Royce scoffed. "Kidding? It took me about five seconds and Kate even less. So, yeah. You're not the same person."

Coulson nodded. "I know, it's just…"

"It's nice to hear it out loud?"

"Yeah." He gave a smile that held more than a little sadness. "Pierce could fool our teachers, even our friends. Hell, he fooled one of my boyfriends, once. But he never pulled it off with Pop or Dad. He tried, oh did he try, but he never managed it."

"That's because they know you."

"Yeah." There was another long silence. "I can't," Coulson said, sounding positively wrecked. "It's not who I am."

"Then stay here and help save the world." The words could have been mocking, but Royce's voice was too gentle for that.

"Thank you. It's nice to have someone to go to who knows what it's like."

Royce huffed. "No matter what it is, you know I've been there and done that. Okay, now?"

Coulson hesitated briefly. "Better. I don't know if it'll ever be okay."

"Wise man."

Royce didn't say any more, but Coulson sat back, studying him carefully. "Good enough that you can tell me what's on your mind."

"Kate isn't having an easy time, what with having to retrain and losing Barton. Don't get me wrong, I'm not making excuses or saying, 'Poor Kate,' and neither is she. She knows damn well that she's going to have to work to get back to where she was, and if Barton never forgives her… it'd hurt like hell, but she won't blame him any more than I would."

Wow, I thought, harsh. But realistic.

"But?"

"But she's lost you, too, and that's killing her. Especially since she doesn't know why."

Coulson's face hardened. "She almost got an asset and friend killed."

I couldn't help the warm feeling that thought gave me, it was nice to know Coulson considered me a friend.

"And you dealt out reprimand and punishment. So why are you still punishing her?"

Another long silence, then Coulson stood. "I should go; I've overstayed my welcome."

"Never," Royce said, but he let Coulson go.

Once the door was shut, Royce heaved a sigh. "At least he's thinking about it," he muttered, and I thought I saw his eyes shoot up to the vent.

How the fuck did they always know?


	9. Chapter 9

I'd seen Lang heading for Coulson's office and headed into the vents, curious. She hadn't spoken to him one-on-one since he'd sent her back into training and I wondered who was making the first move. I hoped that, whichever one it was, they were going to start repairing their friendship. Yeah, it was going to take Lang and I some time to get our own back, but now that we'd made a start I was warming up again to the idea of working with her.

"Come in," Coulson said when she knocked.

When she stepped in her face was carefully blank, like she didn't dare hope. "You wanted to see me, Sir?"

Coulson took a breath and let it out as he stood. "This isn't business," he said, taking one end of the sofa. "I owe you an apology, Kate. I've been a jerk, and I feel terrible that it had to be pointed out to me."

She settled on the other end of the sofa. "Not like I didn't deserve it."

"You don't deserve the way I've been treating you. With Barton understandably distancing himself and Royce assigned elsewhere you needed a friend more than ever, and I wasn't there for you. I was angry at myself for the part I played in what happened, and I displaced that onto you."

She looked like that had caught her off-guard. "You had nothing to do with…"

"I told Pierce about Andie. He doesn't know where you came from—thank God—but I told him about the family you lost. Because of me, he knew just which buttons to press and how to draw you off."

Lang sighed, the tension in her body fading away. "Fuck, Phil, of course you talked to him. You didn't know, couldn't have known, who he really was. If I'd done better at dealing, it wouldn't have mattered. I told you, it's all on me. This doesn't change that."

He gave a wry smile. "That only makes me feel worse about how I've been treating you, you know."

She huffed. "Sorry. I won't lie, it's not going to be entirely easy to get over the hurt, but I'm willing to work at it if you are."

His smile became more honest. "I am. The truth is, I've missed you. You've become a good friend."

"I've missed you, too."

He studied her for a moment. "How are you doing?"

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "It's not easy, but I'm getting there. It's my own damn fault, for pushing everything aside until I've got a dozen things to deal with at once." I was surprised to see her eyes well with tears. "It's been almost ten years, I didn't expect… God, Phil, I still miss her so much it hurts, and it almost cost me someone else I love."

He moved forward and pulled her into his arms where she broke down. As I slipped away I heard him murmuring, "Shh, shh. I know, Sweetheart, I know," and felt confident that we were all back on track.


	10. Chapter 10

"Agent Barton?" the receptionist said, getting my attention. "He's ready for you, now."

"Thanks."

"Agent Barton," the director said and (as always) I wondered if he used that warm greeting with everyone. Well, everyone who wasn't in trouble. "Have a seat. What have you found out?"

I shook my head with a chuckle. "That they are not your normal SHIELD agents."

He huffed, wearing a smirk that reminded me of Coulson. "They're Phil's, did you really expect anything different?"

My brain shorted out on that. A smirk that looked like Coulson's, he'd just used Coulson's first name… "Wait, you're his father?"

Delaware's eyebrows shot up. "You're only just realizing? Agent Barton, you're going to disappoint me."

"Hey, even I don't always see things I'm not looking for." Then I winced, realizing what that meant. "I'm sorry about your other son, Sir."

Delaware's smile fell and he sighed. "So am I, Barton. So am I. Alright, then, give me your impressions on Royce and Lang."

"They still have some learning to do—Lang a little more than Royce, maybe—but who doesn't just coming out of training? They've got potential, though. They put things together in a way most people don't, get answers no one else would come up with. Royce probably because he's Immortal and the long term isn't for him. No idea how or why for Lang, but it works. And they won't leave an agent behind."

He gave a contemplative hum. "But?"

"But I wouldn't make the mistake of thinking they're loyal to SHIELD. Their first loyalty is and always will be to each other. Their second is Agent Coulson."

Delaware nodded. "Good to know. And Agent Lang's little misstep?"

I shrugged. "I won't lie, I was pretty damned pissed at her for a while and even more hurt. But it wasn't anything she did on purpose, she took her punishment like a man, and she's taking steps to make certain it won't happen again."

"Agent Coulson said you liked the idea of working with them. Is that still the case?"

I didn't have to think about that one. "Yes."

Delaware actually looked relieved. "Good. Your reputation hasn't scared them off for once. In fact, I think it actually endears you to them all the more."

I grinned. "It helps that they're just as crazy as I am." I became more serious as I thought of something. "Coulson and Lang did have some tension just after her fuck-up, but it seems to have eased some."

"Do you know what happened?"

"Yes."

"Are you going to tell me?"

I gave him an apologetic smile. "Sorry, Sir. It's not my place."

"In other words you found out skulking in the air ducts and shouldn't know."

"Something like that."

He shook his head, but didn't say anything else about it. "Okay, get back to causing trouble. I should have something for you in the next few days."

"Awesome. I'm starting to get bored."

"I'd better find you something before you bring the place down around my ears, then. Thank you for your report, Agent Barton."

"Glad I could help, Sir." I stood, then asked the question I'd been wondering since he'd given me this assignment. "Why did you ask me?"

"Because you see things most people don't, whether you're looking or not. And because you're usually skulking around in the air ducts."

"Why ask at all?"

He studied me for a moment, then gave me a cagey smile. "Spoilers."

If only I'd known then just how sick I'd get of hearing that. "Do you need me to keep watching?"

"Nah. If they don't know you've been keeping an eye on them for me, I'd rather not press my luck. Or yours. Oh, and Lang makes connections people don't because she knows things you haven't told anyone else. Just something to keep in mind."

"She knows things I haven't told anyone, she knows when I'm in the vents, am I going to be able to keep anything from that woman?"

"In a word? No."

I sighed. "Why did I want to be her friend, again?"

Delaware laughed as I headed for the door. "As if you had a choice."

No, I thought heading down to watch her get her badge, I hadn't.


End file.
